My friend, the ghost

Two kids are laughing with bright smiles and chilling out under a blanket, next to a story book. They radiate having a good time.

Have you ever been in a friendship with a ghost? I mean, not the ghost of a person who died. I mean: The ghost of a person who does really exist in this world. Once I heard a friend of my mum say, that she has been ghosted. And she looked really upset. And of course I asked her: What does it mean to be ghosted? Are you a ghost now? She laughed loud and from the heart and I think I even saw a little tear rolling down her cheek. Those tears that appear when something is really funny, but also, in a hidden little corner of the memory, a little bit sad. I am only five years old, but this is something I learned through watching. Carefully watching the adults when they laugh. There are so many different ways of laughing, and I think there are so many more that I do even not know about yet. My mum did always tell me, that laughing is a language on its own, and that you can speak it in the whole world! That’s why I study it so deeply. I am too lazy to learn 180 languages, so, I think I really found a good trick to have friends all over the globe in my life. I can also proudly say, that I already found two friends in my kindergarten, that come from another country. My dad explained to me, that in their country there is something called war, and that everybody had to leave their houses and even family behind, and walk a long way with many dangers to get here. I am happy that they are here now, and I already learned 6 ways of laughing from them. There is also one way, that I do not understand, but I think it comes from their memories of their old homes, and I try to remember that kind of laughing for my future friends, to know if they miss their homes. And to hopefully make them feel at home around me. My father also told me, that many of those new people in our town lost their family members, and sometimes I hope they are ghosts, too, at least for a short time, to say goodbye before they leave for the light. That’s how my mum calls heaven, or, where you go after you die. She says, in her beautiful way to explain things, that this world is full of light and patterns, and that all of them are portals to other worlds, and sometimes, even this one. I wonder if I can use my skills of laughing in all of them. And, I also hope that I can find my ghost there, too.

As I said, my ghost is not a dead person. Actually, I really saw him, about a year ago, when I was only four years old, and it was very cold outside and there was snow in the forest. My dad said, that we really needed that snow, for the forest, earth, and trees to be healthy. There is so much to learn. I wonder, if I can help the forest, too, to be healthy. And if I can make friends with the trees. And if they understand, when I smile. My mum told me, you can tell every problem you have to the trees, and if you listen closely, you can hear their answer and advice for you. Of course, you can also tell them how happy you are, that you see them. I think they like it a lot, and sometimes they are waving at you with their many arms.

One of them told me, that my ghost is a really really beautiful soul, and that I should love him with all of my heart.

But actually, I’ve been way too shy for that. Even though I meet him every day.

Well. At least. My ghost. Not the boy I met a year ago at the lake.

It was very cold, and I fell into the water. My dad was with me quickly, and he gave me all his jackets and sweaters to be warm, and after he had almost nothing to wear left, he decided to run to the car to bring more warm clothes.

He said: Don’t be scared, I’ll be back in a minute, and I will warm you from my heart all the way long.

Of course I wanted to be strong, as I was already four years old, but inside of me, I was so cold and somehow scared that the lake would grab me again without I could help it.

At least I also remembered the words of my mum, that not every fantasy becomes true, only the good ones.

But still, I was scared.

And this is when I met my ghost for the first time.

It was a boy my age, and he gently sat there and watched what happened, and kept still until my father left.

Only then he sat right next to me, and asked me: Do you know how you can keep yourself warm?

I shook my head, as in this moment, I really didn’t know anymore.

He asked me to close my eyes. And then, suddenly I saw him there, too, through my eyes closed, and he smiled at me and took my hand.

Now, let’s go, he said. And he did bring me to a warm fireplace, and my parents were there, too, and some fresh blankets to get cosy. The moon was shining fully, and the stars danced with the fire. He smiled at me again, and said: In our fantasy, we can go everywhere, and there is always a healing place where we can recover from the real world.

I was so happy, and after I got warm again, we even danced around the fire, and I am sure I saw a baby wolve with his mother nearby in the forest.

We had a beautiful time, and I enjoyed every second of it. After many many dances, I had the feeling it is time to go back to the lake in the real world.

And, as I opened my eyes, I could just see my dad running as fast as he could, with every fabric he could find. Funnily, he still didn’t put clothes on himself. Maybe this is what fathers do, to protect their children.

I smiled at him, still filled with happy memories, and I can tell that he was relieved to see me like that.

I looked to the side, and there was this boy, still sitting still, and gently smiling at me. When I looked at him, his smile got even brighter, and I loved to see that.

But, was it even true, what happened before? I mean, didn’t he just say to close my eyes? And did he also know about our dance in the forest, was he with me there, or was it all just in my fantasy?

Before I could find out, his grandmother came to pick him up. I did not have a grandmother, well, not one that I met in life, and also, I never asked if I could see her ghost, as I always thought my grandparents must have left to the other worlds long ago, and that they would watch me from afar anyways.

If I ever would have had a grandmother in my life, I wish she would’ve been like her. Gentle, funny, wise, and filling the room with love for her grandson and the people around him.

She asked him: Did you finish? And he nodded his head.

Somehow, I had the feeling that she also knew what had happened.

Has she been at the warm fire with us?

I wouldn’t know, and I was way too shy to ask. What, if they said no? What would happen to my precious memory? Before I could make any decision, the two of them started to move towards the forest.

Somehow, my dad must have seen the look of my face, and he ran after them to thank them and ask for their adress, to send them a thank you gift for their help.

The boys grandmother accepted, and wrote the adress on a tiny paper with a beautiful print of roses on it.

I still carry this little paper with me every day as my lucky charm, but sometimes it makes me sad, too.

Because, as you might know already, I never saw the boy again.

My mum welcomed us home in that night, with a warm tea and open arms to fall into. When I told her about what has happened, she really looked into my eyes and told me with all of her peaceful harmonic energy, that I had something very special with that little boy and his grandmother, and that she want to thank them, too.

My mum does really love music. She says, music can heal everything. And there is even one frequency, that can bring peace to the world. At least, to the world within yourself.

So, she recorded a lullaby and sent it to the boy and his grandmother, and a few days later, we received a letter as well.

In a rainbow covered sleeve, there was a little book with poems for children, and I did love it so much that my mother had to read it to me every night.

But not only this, if I closed my eyes in the evening, I would see the boy, and every night we would go on fantastic adventures and we saw dragons, flying boats, beautiful temples and loving creatures. And sometimes, we would dance around the fire, too.

But every morning I would wake up and be scared what would happen if it turned out to be just in my head. I told some kids in kindergarten, and they said that I am crazy and that all of this cannot be true.

So I waited for a good moment to ask the boy. We still would have the adress, so I asked my mum if I was allowed to write a letter to the boy, and if she would help me.

She had this look on her face again, filled with love, and the minute I asked her she already organized the most beautiful pen and paper to deliver my message.The only thing was… I never told my mum that I would meet him every evening to go on adventures. And even more: Sometimes he would even sit right next to me in my room, and we would have vibrant chats about our daily excursions.

To not tell too much, I did let my mother only write about the parts she already knew, and that I was now a bit scared to meet again but that I would love to do so. I thought, if we would meet then, I would still have enough time to ask my questions.

But, we never did. Still, every night the boy would visit me in my room, but I never got a reply on my letter.

Was it, because I told him I am scared? Was it, because he thought I am crazy, like the kids in kindergarten said? Or did he not get my letter?

There were so many questions, so, I asked him on one of the visits in my room.

I asked: Why don’t you answer? And he looked at me and said: My grandmother is very sick. I am so sad, and I don’t know what to do.

I really wanted to give him a hug, but also, I couldn’t allow myself to even believe in what he just said. What, if this was just in my fantasy? Then, would it mean that I am making up that his grandmother was sick? That would be horrible! So, instead of being there for him now, I completely stopped meeting him in the evenings. And when I saw him in my room, I pretended that I am just fantasizing. I didn’t allow it to be true, even though I saw him sitting there. I was really annoyed by it. How could he be here, right now, but not giving me an answer?

Or did his grandmother really got sick, and my letter was never delivered?

Around this time, I heard about ghosting for the first time.

My mothers friend laughed and said: No, I a am not a ghost now. But there is a man, who never replied to my messages, and that is what we call ghosting.

I really understood what she meant. So, if someone doesn’t reply to you, you still have his ghost sitting there, next to you. And somehow, you cannot get rid of him.

Or maybe, you don’t want to get rid of him.

Because it’s the only thing that is left by this person.

And you can never really ask him if it is really him, you see there.

My mum told me later, that it doesn’t matter if someone is writing you back or not, as long as you keep an open heart and you stand for your love.

But me, I often think of my ghost. If I should be nicer to him. And if I will ever be okay by the fact, that I can not see his bright smile again. I was really looking forward to make it even brighter. And learn new codes for my laughing vocabulary.

My ghost said: It’s ok, I’m with you. And the rest doesn’t matter.

I still do hope that his grandmother is okay. And that one day, we will meet again.

It’s a big world, but a small lake.

I will be there once a year, and remember how we danced around the fire.

And for sure, I will always love my favourite ghost who did teach me so much about this world, and who is a true friend to me.

And when I get sad, I remember the words of my mum, that no one can take away the soft feeling in my heart, not even the weirdest thought.

And then I would fall in the arms of my dad, and be happy that I still have my family around.

And then, I would send all my love to those who cannot be with their families right now. And I would sit in my fantasy with them and visit their home towns, learning everything about the ways they used to live and keeping their memories warm.

Because, my family taught me that we can make the world a better place, with passion, compassion and love. Or was it laugh?

– The End –

Keywords:  Children Book, Compassion, Diversity, Family, Fantasy, Ghosting, Psychology, Short Story, Spirituality

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